Zane's POV

Sitting on the large oak table I felt a sense of unease despite having Fletcher sit across from me.

Three days had passed since I last heard from Belle. The silence was gnawing at me. I found myself constantly wondering how she was doing, if she was safe. I couldn't shake the worry.

“Can you stop that?” Fletcher said, irritation in his voice. “You’re driving me crazy with that tapping.”

I blinked, realizing for the first time that I’d been drumming my fingers on the table. “Sorry,” I muttered, forcing my hands to still.

Fletcher shut his phone and leaned forward, scrutinizing me with a knowing look. “What’s...